


The Saint

by deinvati



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: Eames turns up, shot and bleeding, at Arthur's door, and Arthur, a fool in love, lets him in.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 115





	The Saint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storm_of_sharp_things](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/gifts).



> For my newest spouse, a wedding gift and something to tide you over until the end of your shift. ALL THE LOVE!
> 
> (Unbeta'd, don't tell Flos.)
> 
> For the prompt: saint

"I did it," Eames panted, falling into his arms as he came through the door of Arthur's safehouse. "'s done."

He was bleeding. His right arm was stained all the way down to his cuff, even though his jacket hid most of it.

"Fuck," Arthur muttered under his breath and shut the door with his foot.

He maneuvered Eames to the couch, sitting him up and helping him peel off the ruined jacket and shirt. "Are you going to die?" Arthur asked pragmatically. He needed to know what he was dealing with.

"Nah," Eames slurred, and Arthur realized he was feeling no pain.

"'sides," he continued, "Can't die yet. I haven't got my sainthood."

He'd stopped the bleeding, Arthur saw, but he was sweating. Better get this done quickly while he was still under the cocktail of booze and pills he'd put in his system. Arthur grabbed his first aid kit from under the sink.

"To be a saint," Arthur started, carefully peeling the bandage off Eames' shoulder, "you have to be a very good, and usually very dead person."

Eames hissed his displeasure as the dried blood pulled, and Arthur ignored him, focusing on the bullet wound.

"And more importantly," he continued, calm and confident, "you have to perform three miracles."

Eames grunted out a chuckle through clenched teeth. "Well, I performed an extraction with a bullet in my shoulder. Does that count?"

Arthur made an 'iffy' hand motion and started to swab the site.

"Well, what if I told you I held up the forge the whole time?"

Arthur hummed and sterilized a needle and thread with rubbing alcohol. "That might do it." He made his first stitch and Eames was very, very quiet. Holding his breath, probably. "What about the other two?" he asked, to see if he could get him to breathe again.

The bullet was still inside, but it looked like a small entry wound, and Arthur had palpated the site and the bullet felt like it was still intact. Better to leave it in than risk getting it out. He kept sewing.

"Well," Eames said on an exhale, and good, that's what Arthur wanted to hear. "I didn't kill Cobb."

Arthur chuckled under his breath and quickly finished the last few stitches. "That _is_ a miracle."

He tied off the stitching, held it closed with butterfly bandages, and got Eames a glass of water after he washed his hands.

"Did you have time for a third miracle?" he asked, teasing and also checking his pupils and response time.

Eames looked up at him then, eyes clear and intense, lips determined. "Arthur," he said, as serious as Arthur had ever heard him. "I love you."

Arthur blinked. "You…"

They'd never even kissed. They'd known each other for nearly a decade, hated each other for most of it, and Arthur had wanted more during every second.

"I…" he was speechless. He had no words. He didn't, _couldn't_ respond to that. His hand couldn't let go of the glass. "That's not a miracle," he finally squeaked out through a throat that felt too tight.

Eames pried the glass from his fingers and set it on the end table. Then he took Arthur's hand in his. "Arthur," he said again, and tugged Arthur to the couch next to him. "I _love_ you."

Arthur's mouth was dry. His ears were making a strange humming noise. He wasn't dreaming, he'd checked his totem when he saw Eames through the window. He swallowed. "I… love you too."

Eames beamed. " _That's_ the miracle." And then he pulled Arthur close and kissed him.


End file.
